By my troth!
by EggplantWitch
Summary: Sims Medieval fic! The Heroes of Magic-Side wander through their seperate existences, arguing with their neighbours, blowing up houses, suffering from Whale Rage and being made fun of for their silly Welsh accents. T for the same reasons as the game.
1. Arthur Pronounced Arthyure

**My gosh, is this the first Sims Medieval fic? I can't find any others. I feel super proud if this is the first, and if it isn't then SORRY. MINE WILL BE BETTER THAN YOURS ANYWAY. There are various shout outs to fantasy genre of books and games scattered throughout this fic which most of you will probably find. Fic contains: One scrawny Knight, one Welsh Bard, one Sorceress with a ridiculous name, one Queen and probably, at some stage, a mug of frothing ale (or five). I have no idea where this is going but I hope you like it!**

Magic-Side was what everyone called the land of Irule. Even it's Monarch, Queen Casala. She was a bit bossy but as monarchs go, she didn't overtax and if the peasants had any problems then if they made a big enough petition she would get someone to sort it out. The most recent dispute was money to buy clothes with. She'd found a man she could rely on to not flood the streets with crimson, a young Bard by the name of Imp, to settle matters, and settle them he did. He played in the local Tavern (the Club and Crossbow) now, writing plays and sagas in his spare time. Various people came to the Club and Crossbow for a drink in the evenings, such as Grey Smith, the Blacksmith. He was quite skilled in his trade and forged swords, staves, shields and armour daily. He was relatively famous for helping the much more famous Sorceress Penguin create the Philosopher's Stone. It was destroyed when Penguin tried to harness its power, but famous she remained. Various things happened in day-to-day life, whether it be eerie flashings from the Wizard's Tower or boats peacefully sailing in or out from the dock, but for Magic-Side's future, the day Arthur the Small stepped off of one of those boats was an important day indeed.

X X X

Arthur (pronounced Arthyure) the Small was…small. Not for his age, but he was a skinny young lad no older than fifteen or sixteen, and very handsome. If it weren't for the fact that he wasn't an orphan he would've been up for the job immediately. His parents had sent him here to be a Knight in the Royal Barracks since he'd learnt sword fighting since he was six. He was much better than he looked. And now, clad in his green tunic and boots, he carried the few belongings he had up the hill to the Barracks. He pushed open the door and looked around the hallway. He shifted his bag.

"Hello?" he called. "Is there anybody there?"

"What do you want, lad?" a bristly face looked down at him from the balcony, before walking down the stairs to meet him. More faces appeared at the balcony. Mostly male, but a few female too.

"My name is Arthur, sir. I've been sent to be the new Knight," Arthur told the Guard, feeling somewhat puny next to the Guard's armour.

"You're having a laugh," said one of the Guards, grinning. Arthur glowered at him. The man in front of Arthur laughed.

"You? You're just a runt of a boy!"

"I know sword fighting," he could feel his face going red. The Guards carried on sniggering. "And I can read," that made the laughing die down a bit. "I've pledged myself to Her Highness. I'm a Knight,"

"We'll soon see about that. Here's your room, boy. Enjoy!" the Guard pushed him through a door and he landed on his backside, still burning red. He could hear the sniggering fade away as the Guards went back to their duty.

"I'll show you…" he muttered, before standing up, wincing at the slight pain after being thrown onto the floor, and taking a look at his home. There was a bed with holes in the covers, a slightly dirty mirror and a chamber pot (upon closer inspection it was thankfully empty) along with a wooden table and a chair that wobbled. The fire in the corner provided a lot of warmth and Arthur had been provided with a pot to cook in. Good job he'd been sent with lots of money from his parents. Time to guy buy some food and meet the locals. And hey – here he could drink as much as he liked and his parents would never tell him off! Brilliant!

X X X

He ambled around town shoving the memories of arrival into the darker parts of his mind and making way for the glorious sunniness of the day. It was a pretty place here. He was walking near to the docks when a flash made him jump and look up. There was a monstrous tower near the cliff a way above him. There were coloured lights coming from the windows, flashing and sparking. What on Earth…?

"What are you gawping at in the middle of the road for?" a peasantish voice said in an annoyed tone. Arthur brought his gaze back down.

"Didn't you see that?" he said to the woman.

"See what?"

"Those flashes,"

"What about them?" she still looked annoyed. Arthur groped for words.

"Isn't that a bit…strange?"

"No. That's where the Sorceress lives. Happens all the time. You foreign?"

"I'm, uh, new to Magic-Side,"

"Huh. Well now you know," she said before then hurrying off. Arthur looked as the tower flashed blue before slowly continuing on his way.

**This feels like an absurdly short chapter to me, if only because most of my chapters in other fics go over 1500 words. Oh well. Short chapters = readability! Readability = like! Like = reviews! (get the hint?)**


	2. Llamados Exports Rain

**Back again! This chapter introduces the aforementioned Welsh guy. Well, he's not actually from Wales, 'cuz Wales doesn't exist, but he's from a place **_**like **_**Wales. Just to clarify, this fic will mainly centre on Arthur, the Bard, a Physician and Penguin and any other people I come up with. But to be honest, Arthur is the best. Warning in advance: Sorry about the reeeeaaally bad lyrics. Probably not much better or worse than real medieval lyrics!**

Arthur poked around in the docks for a bit but as dusk fell he decided it was time to see how good the drinks were here. The Club and Crossbow seemed to be a popular destination so he ambled off there, sword in its sheath and a pocket full of Simoles. It was warm and well-lit in here with a stage at the front and an ambience of booze. Arthur liked it already. He walked up to the counter.

"One ale, please," he asked.

"Half pint?" said the bartender, grinning. Arthur glared at him but received a whole pint all the same. He tossed the money at the bartender and went to take a seat near the stage. There was a young man about the same age as him in the corner, quietly tuning a lute. Perhaps he was a Bard? He had slick black hair that revealed two slightly pointed ears. Not nearly as pointy as an Elf's, so he must be…a Druid! Yes. He was a druid. Arthur sipped his drink and watched as the Bard boy carried his lute up onto the stage and tapped his foot. He played a near chord, which made a couple of people stop and look up. The Bard was playing now. It was a melancholy sounding tune, and soon the Bard opened his mouth and song came pouring out.

"There once was a boy,  
>From a far away place,<br>Such a handsome young lad,  
>And he came one day<br>From a place far away,  
>And in forest'y green he was clad," he sang. Truly that was a voice of a genius. No, not of a genius. Of a person who loved what they were doing. Arthur thought it was wonderful. He listened intently, ignoring all the other sounds that were beginning to die down in order to hear the Bard's tune.<p>

"He took up the sword,  
>From his dead father's grave,<br>And set out to seek a fortune  
>His story told here<br>Around the good beer  
>And sang in a one truthful tune," it was a short song but it touched Arthur. He'd never been touched by music like that. He clapped the loudest as the Bard took a bow, beaming from hs boyish face.<p>

"Thank you, thank you," he said. "I take it that we all know the Jig of Gentleman Jim? A shame there aren't more ladies in the room,"

"One extra," a voice called from the door. A young woman came in. She was wearing rather plainish brown robes that were made more interesting with a bright scarlet cape. She looked like a mage. Many people bowed their heads to her as she swanned in and took a glass of wine. Arthur watched her with a curious expression but listened to the Bard playing the far merrier Jig of Gentleman Jim. He got jostled about as people told him to move out of the way, but after an hour the Bard took a final bow and left the stage, disappearing upstairs. He came back down once the booze was flowing again and no one noticed him, apart from Arthur, who tapped his arm as he passed. The Bard turned to look at him.

"Yes?"

"I liked that first song you played. The rest were good, too, but that first one really turned something in me,"

"Thank you," the Bard smiled. "Here, I haven't seen you around before. What's your name, stranger?" he took the seat opposite him, still smiling.

"Arthur. I'm a new Knight up at the Barracks. You're the first person that's had a nice word to say to me since I got here,"

"Really? I hope that we haven't given you a bad impression. We here in Magic-Side are kind people, you know. I know all of these people relatively well. I could name every single one of them,"

"Who's the girl that came in after your first song? She looks like a hedge wizard,"

"A hedge wizard?" the Bard laughed. "That's Sorceress Penguin! She's famous!"

"She lives in the Wizard's Tower by the docks?"

"Who else would live there?"

"True. What was your name, by the way?"

"I'm Imp. Imp y Celyn,"

"…are you foreign too?"

"Yeah. You're lucky, when I first came here everyone laughed at my accent,"

"You don't have an accent,"

"Not any more I don't," he told him, before continuing in his accented voice. "Eye yoosed to, though, eye did," Arthur laughed while Imp rolled his eyes.

"See what I mean? That's why I speak in your accent. You should've heard the language some of the Llamedosian people spoke. About one vowel for every eight not-vowels. Contenants. Costenunts. Something like that. And before you give me that look, _yes _I can read. I can write too, so there,"

"Same. When some of the Guards were laughing at me I brought that at and a lot of them shut up,"

"No offence to you, but Guards aren't really hired for their intelligence,"

"You have to be if you're a Knight. There's a difference,"

"I'll take your word for it. Possibly the difference between being a Troubador and being a Minstrel? That's what I am now. Minstrel Imp, the Tavern Bard. How did you come to be here, Arthur?"

"My parents sent me to take my fortune. Apart from the dead father's grave bit you got my story down to a pinpoint in that song,"

"I wrote it myself. I'm glad you liked it,"  
>"What about you?"<p>

"Oh…I've lived here for quite a long time. Ever since my parents died,"

"Orphans always do well,"

"No, they don't," Imp's tone suddenly went cold. "Those years were the worst of my life,"

"…sorry…" Arthur hoped that he hadn't offended his new friend. He needed one. Imp sighed.

"It's alright. Orphaned Bards are supposed to write and sing sad songs but I like the jolly ones too. That Jig of Gentleman Jim I was playing earlier is one of my favourites,"

"It is pretty fun. Will you play it again before I leave?"

"By Tavern rules if a customer requests a song they have to pay me. Sorry,"

"It's OK. Here," he handed over a few Simoles which Imp took graciously. While he counted them out Arthur asked another question. "Hey, if I asked the Sorceress for a dance would I get any luck?"

"Yes, but you'd be lucky with an 'un' in front of it. She's a very tough lady and she doesn't care for romance,"

"I'm not looking for romance! She's way older than me! I just wanted a dance,"

"Why not ask some of the other women? I'm not sure which ones are married or not,"

"I think the only other woman who's the same height as me is that scary-looking one that just came in,"

"Who?" Imp frowned and looked around.

"The one by the fireplace sharpening her sword," Arthur pointed. Imp said something in a funny language, which Arthur presumed must be Llamedosian.

"That's the Royal Spy, Lady. They say she's a vampire. Keep away from here, alright? You'd be better off with a wild bear,"

"Whoa, OK. I'll see if I can find someone. Go and play the song,"

"Very well," Imp stood up and went upstairs to get his lute before coming back down onto the stage. He didn't shout to get everyone's attention. He just played a few notes and sang. His singing made everyone stop talking and either sing along or dance or just listen. Arthur stood up and made his way across the room to the table where the Sorceress was sipping her wine.

"Uh, excuse me?" said Arthur. She looked up at him. She was quite pretty in her own way, with a cute upturned nose and charcoal eyes. Her cocoa brown hair was rather plain too, like her robes, but they were tipped with glittery silver.

"Yeah?" she said.

"Would you like to dance?"  
>"Are you new here or something? I don't dance, kid,"<p>

"Then perhaps you would like to start, as courtesy to the Bard?"

"Deal with it,"

"Oh, uh, well then, OK…" he walked away, his face burning. So much for that idea. She wasn't _that _much older than him anyway. Only a couple of years. Why hadn't she taken a husband yet? Any woman should've taken a husband by the age of twenty, and though she hadn't reached that age yet most were married before that age. Oh well. It wasn't his business to know, so he listened to the rest of Imp's song and said his farewells before heading back up the hill to the Barracks.

**Wooo, Imp! He's super awesome fun to write. I guess it's 'cause I can relate to him in some ways (in the fact that we both like to write stuff, not that my parents were eaten by a whale). Progress may be slowish, 'cause I'm in France. Which is not where I normally am.**


	3. A Different Kind of Elf

**Couple more notes: Penguin doesn't have a fatal flaw because I managed to get hold of the Legendary Trait 'Famous' for her instead, so no shouting 'Mary Sue' (believe me, there are far too many Mary Sue characters in these archives, I don't want to add to them). Also, my Elves are like the Elves on MySims, with dark skin and grey hair instead of pale everything. I guess they're different **_**kinds **_**of Elves. Anyway, here you go!**

The next morning was a rainy morning, much to the chagrin of Sorceress Penguin.

"Annoyed," she said, pouting. "I wanted to go reagent-collecting today, _and _I need to get some more food," she dropped the remaining piece of breakfast into the fire, which was currently roaring at a pretty shade of cyan. Instead of going out she went over to her crystal ball to find out if it would stop raining today, and thankfully it said that it would stop at about one in the afternoon, so she'd have plenty of time then to do what she wanted. Of course, it didn't really make much difference. Yeah, she'd just cast the spell and be done with it. She muttered the spell beneath her breath and stepped out into the rain. She felt nothing. So the spell worked, bending the rain around her.

"Of course it worked. I'm a Sorceress," she said to herself. She'd gotten in the habit of talking either to herself or to the fire because it could get quite lonely in the Tower. Not that she cared much. Other people were loud, and most were smelly. Lots of wet-looking and not-too-smelly people stopped her on her way down to the town to buy her potions or to ask to have a Mend cast on them, which Penguin did for a small fee. She had to make a living, after all (she wasn't letting on that she'd managed to recover a fraction of the Philosopher's Stone, which she was using to make all of her copper coins into gold ones, thus making her five times as rich as she was). She waved to the towncrier as she entered the Judgement Zone. There weren't any good executions on today, so she pulled a slab of bear meat out of her hammerspace pockets.

"Hey, Pit Monster!" she shouted into the fog. "Breakfast!" she heard a roar from within, so she tossed the meat into the tunnel. A huge blue claw-like thing shot up, snarfing the meat. It rumbled in an appreciative way and let her pat it before disappearing back down. She wasn't a regular feeder of the Pit Monster, unlike Imp (who knew that it was good to make nice-nice with it in case he ever had to come up against it) but she was the only person that could tame it. She was, after all, a Sorceress. This made her a very terrifying woman to those in authority. The Monarch, Queen Casala the Kind, knew that if Penguin went against the laws of the kingdom then she would never be kept still in stocks (and anyway she had too many fans that would break her out) and she couldn't be fed to the Pit Monster, who would just lick her. But Penguin generally behaved, apart from a few buildings disappearing into a crater, so no one had a reason to worry.

Bloodletter Paradise didn't look it, but she was nervous. She'd heard that Elves got shunted a lot in Magic-Side, and Elves were very obvious. Her Physician's outfit was brown and green, traditional Elvish colours, her skin was the colour of milk chocolate and her hair was grey. And, of course, her ears were very pointy. She was setting up a Physician's next to the Wizard Tower, having heard that Magic-Side needed one and anyway, her Elvish knowledge was vast when it came to healing. She'd been given spiteful looks and not many people had spoken to her on the trip, but she didn't mind that. She liked to sit quiet and think. An old family friend, a Nurse by the name of Dahlia, was setting up the Physician's with her so that she wouldn't be completely bogged down. She could see the huge Tower as soon as she stepped off the boat. It was near a cliff just above her, so she climbed up to find Nurse Dahlia already there. The Nurse smiled warmly.

"Hello, my dear! Did you have a nice trip?"

"It wasn't bad," she said truthfully. "I've heard that people don't like Elves here,"

"Well…I'm sure that since you'll be a leading figure people will learn to make differences. People were very dubious of female wizards, and look what happened to the one next door!"

"What did happen to the one next door?"

"She's very famous, my girl. Sorceress Penguin,"

"Is she nice?"

"I'm not sure. She doesn't speak with others that often. She hasn't taken a husband though, which is very suspicious,"

"Nor have I,"

"Elves have different ideas, clearly. You should plan on finding yourself one. A pretty girl like you shouldn't have a problem,"

"But an Elf might,"

"Oh, stop being so pessimistic. Why don't you go and take a look around?"

"Alright. Thank you, Dahlia," so Paradise went back outside.

The ground was squishy, as though it had just stopped raining. Perfect for leeches, Paradise though in an absent minded way. She should go looking for some of them later. She'd need them by the bucket. She noticed that there was some wooden fencing around a patch of herbs. Some common ones but also ones which Paradise couldn't even recognise. Maybe they belonged to the Sorceress? Paradise could certainly use some, so she walked over to the door to the Tower and knocked. There wasn't an answer but the door was open so she stepped in. It smelt fantastic in here. The Sorceress was actually there, smoothing her hand across a crystal ball.

"Excuse me?" said Paradise. The Sorceress jumped and then glared at her.

"Ever heard of knocking?"

"I did," Paradise frowned.

"I was concentrating. What do you want?" well, at least she doesn't seem to be anti-Elf, Paradise thought to herself.

"I'm the new Physician. My name is Paradise Summers,"

"Physician?"

"Yes. I heal people," she said placidly.

"Then you've come to the wrong place. I'm Magic-Side's healer. Mend is very useful,"

"Magic can only take you so far. Elves study both practical and magical and I can say that with knowledge. Anyway, I was wondering if the garden of herbs outside belonged to you?"

"Of course it belongs to me. Do you think I go trekking around town whenever I need a Bloodwort?" Paradise wasn't sure if it was her that had made the wrong impression on the Sorceress or the Sorceress that had made the wrong impression on her. Either way, she didn't like this Penguin woman.

"I was going to ask if you would let me borrow some. I am just starting out after all,"

"Hey, you can't just barge in and ask for the herbs, some of which have taken me years to grow. You can buy quite a lot of them for a few Simoles at the Shoppe. And for _free _if you think you can be bothered to go and look for some. Or grow your own,"

"I was only asking," yes, she definitely didn't like this person. She pulled a face and stormed out, her hopeful mood now ruined. Well! The rudeness of some people!

**This is what I meant by 'arguing with their neighbours' in the summary. Not too keen on this chapter, but oh well…**


	4. Barracks Puppy

**Firstly, thanks to the peeps that have favourited this story (though I noticed none of you bothered to review, HO HUM). Anyway, feels like a short chapter, this one, since it's only one paragraph, but then again it's a paragraph that fills up over three pages on my comp, so eh. And here we return to the Club and Crossbow. I just love pub scenes.**

Throughout the week Arthur duelled with the other Guards. He lost against the higher ranking ones, but he was surprisingly good. He was brave and chivalrous too, not to mention friendly and polite. However, he was clumsy at times and didn't always think before speaking. That was his fatal flaw, but his eager enthusiasm quickly earned him the nickname of the Barracks Puppy. Which Arthur wasn't too happy about, but hey, at least they didn't laugh at him as much anymore. He strolled down to the tavern after a hard day of training to ease his creaking joints. Imp was leaning on the counter looking bored, but the scarlet red of Penguin's cape was visible from here. To Imp first.

"How fare thee, Imp?" Arthur smiled at the Druid, the face of whom lifted upon sight of Arthur.

"Arthur! I'm in need of some good company. Drink shift is tedious,"

"No songs tonight, then?"

"Believe me, if I could then I would,"

"Ah. Since you're here though, get a Knight some ale. I need a drink,"

"Seven Simoles, in that case," Imp said as he turned around to fill a tankard. "Here," he exchanged the frothing ale for the coppers which Arthur handed over. The Knight took a seat next to the counter so he could still talk to Imp.

"Have you heard about the new Physician? I hear she's an Elf," he said.

"No, I didn't know there was a new Physician. I try to keep out of trouble,"

"So do I, but I've already been there three times. Injuries I've done to myself, which is even more stupid,"

"I just buy salves from the Shoppe. My wages can just stretch to one every now and then," Arthur looked up from his drink, frowning.

"How much do they pay you?"

"22 Simoles, I think. Every day or so,"

"That's not enough to buy even two meals!"

"That's why I fish. Druids are good at fishing. And then there are tips which I get from customers. So I get through. I suppose you get paid more?"

"Uh, yeah," he felt guilty now. "And I thought I was at the short end of the stick because of a holey duvet,"

"A holy duvet? Blessed by the Watcher?" said Imp. You could tell he didn't mean it, but his tone made it all the more funnier. Either that or the booze was already affecting his small stature. Let the mirth and frivolity begin!

"Not that kind of holy," Arthur laughed. "Another drink, please,"

"Hmm. You be careful,"

"Alright…fill it up halfway and I'll leave it at that,"

"Good. Three more Simoles please,"

"Here," Arthur passed the coins and took his drink back. "I notice that Penguin's back again,"

"Yeah, she comes in once or twice a week,"

"She looks a bit lonely,"

"Well, you can try talking to her but I don't know if you'll get a reply,"

"I think I'll try," Arthur gulped down the rest of his drink. "Thanks for the ale. Good stuff,"

"You're welcome," Imp resumed his leaning-on-hand position as Arthur manoeuvred his way across the room, proving that he wasn't quite tipsy yet so was probably safe. Penguin spotted him before he said anything to her.

"You again," she said. "What is it now?"

"I just wanted to talk to you. I don't know a lot about magic,"

"Not a lot of people do," she didn't object to him sitting down opposite her so he made himself comfortable. "You're the Barracks Puppy, aren't you?" Arthur groaned.

"Aw, please don't. How did you know anyway?"

"I'm a Sorceress, I just know things. Also, I'm far too nosy and I listen in to peoples conversations,"

"Ah. That would explain a lot of things,"  
>"Yep! Oh, yeah…I was meaning to ask you…"<p>

"Me?"

"Yeah you. I need the help of a Knight in my next experiment," Arthur had sudden images of being a guinea pig, which he shook out of his mind.

"I'm not volunteering to be a test subject!"

"I don't want you to be one. I need some help,"

"Alright…what with?"

"I'm going to try and create life,"

"Whoa, I don't think we know each other well en – oh wait, you mean from…dead bits?"

"Yes,"

"I'm not sure if that's better or worse,"

"Look, I don't want to know where you get them from, I just need some fresh flesh. Body parts. And a sword, I think, to make sure my creature has protection,"

"Um, alright. I see it in my duty to aid a fair maiden…even if you aren't fair and I'm not going to enquire about the maiden part,"

"Good, because if you did you'd sorely regret it,"

"I'll bring them to your Tower when I get the time to find some,"

"Thanks," she smiled a sunny smile which momentarily made his heart feel strange. Considering her sarky personality and her previous hostility she had a lovely smile.

"Like I said, it is in my duty. Then I will see you anon, because I think if I stay here too much longer I'll start drinking again,"

"Adieu," she tossed her cocoa brown hair and watched Arthur leave. She smiled a small smile to herself. Influence was the most valuable thing she felt she owned. Without it her life would be very difficult.

**I hope you people find Penguin's personality as interesting as I find it fun to right. Tune in next time to see a Druid attempt to play Kingball!**


	5. Blood, Blood Everywhere

**Probably should have updated earlier, oh well, I was DragonFabling. I've decided that Kingball is like Rounders, which is kind of like baseball (I think). Still better than kicking a pig's bladder around.**

Imp ambled along in the sunshine and the fresh summertime breeze. It was the kind of day where he would sit in an orchard and write a poem but he was in a restless kind of mood and besides, he had run out of ink. While out buying ink he had been distracted by the Kingball paddles on display and had bought a relatively cheap one so he could have a go at the sport. They had just built a new pitch, so he felt he should try the game lest he be any good at it. There was a group of young lads already playing when he got there, being watched by their lady friends who looked thoroughly bored. Imp sauntered over in what he hoped was a confident fashion and spoke to the one who had been throwing the ball about while the players were having a break.

"Any room for one more?" he asked. The boy looked at him dubiously.  
>"Aren't you the Druid that plays at the Club and Crossbow?"<p>

"I am. I felt like playing Kingball today instead of writing a new saga,"

"Well…what model of paddle do you have?"

"Um…this one?" he held it out. The boy sniffed.

"It's not awful. I guess you can play. You do know _how _to play, don't you?"

"I was watching and I think I understand,"

"Alright. You can go on the other team, they're fielding," Imp was confused.

"This is a pitch isn't it? Not a field?"

"Fielding means trying to catch the ball to stop the other team from winning,"

"Oh good. I'm good at that,"

"Huh, well. Go on. We're going to carry on playing in a moment," so Imp went onto the pitch with the other players, who were neither friendly nor hostile. It was quite hot having to run around all the time but Imp was good at catching the balls even if he was awful at hitting them very far. When they switched back onto the fielding side again (he had no idea who was winning) a stroke of bad luck ran into him. He was watching as the bowler threw the ball. The batsman hit it and it shot off. A couple of people ran, but Imp wasn't quite fast enough to duck as it smashed him in the face. Pain flared up in his nose.

"Time out!" he heard someone yell as he staggered backwards. He could feel something warm on his face, and much to his shock it was his own blood, scarlet against his pale hand. He blinked at it.

"That's a lot of blood," someone said.

"Are you alright? Hey! Druid! Say something!" someone else said, shaking him. He was still staring at the blood which was on his hand when he had removed it from his face. It made him feel faint just looking at it yet he couldn't tear his gaze away from it.

"…'m bleeding…" he said in a faint voice, before the world slipped sideways and suddenly went very dark.

He wasn't sure how long he was out for, but he woke up to a funny smell that made him wrinkle his nose, and then regret it as it seared up.

"Wake up," a female voice commanded. He opened his eyes and looked out through them blearily. His vision refocused and he sat up. It looked like he was in the Physician's. "Your nose is going to look a little bit strange forever now,"

"Why?" Imp looked around, trying to find the source of the voice.

"You broke it. This is why I disapprove of this barbaric Kingball game. The number of injuries I've had to deal with…" the faint clanking noise in the background stopped and a figure appeared through the doorway. She was an Elf, quite clearly, but she was a very beautiful Elf. Her grey hair was tied up in a ponytail and her eyes were a pleasant shade of lilac. "What are you gawping at?" Imp shut his mouth.

"Sorry. And, er, thank you,"  
>"Just be thankful that your friends had the sense to bring you here instead of to that show-off Sorceress instead,"<p>

"Don't you like her?"

"Like her?" she scoffed. "As Elves say, she's an utter _bezoch_,"

"I think I can tell what that means," though I wish I didn't, he added to himself. Penguin wasn't so bad, as far as he could make out, but she didn't have a patch on this Elf. It'd be worth getting his nose broken again just so he could be fussed over. "What's your name?"

"Paradise. It's an Elvish name. I was told what your name was but I can't remember,"

"Imp. It's a Druid name,"

"I didn't say I wanted to know," she finished washing her hands in the bowl of water and turned back to face him, her eyes boring into his. "You can leave now. There are other people for me to attend to,"

"Uh, OK. Thank you. Thank you very much," he stood up and had to stand still for a moment as a wave of dizziness hit him.

"Please refrain from playing any more Kingball for a while. You'll make yourself sick,"

"Yes. Thank you. Uh, see you around…" and with that Paradise shooed him out of the clinic and back out into the shadow of the Tower. Wow! What a woman!

**Physician's is usally one of the first buildings I get (after the tavern) because my Sims often get mauled by bears/blow themselves up/fall off a cliff etc etc. I somehow manage to pick the wrong answer whenever an event box pops up. Next time on BMT: The Club and Crossbow hires another Bard, and Arthur is not depressed enough to get drunk.**


End file.
